


Lesson Learned

by chronicallyunderwhelmed



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Roommates, sprained ankle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 09:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicallyunderwhelmed/pseuds/chronicallyunderwhelmed
Summary: Cyrus gets hurt after making some poor life choices, and his roommate, Elijah, takes care of him (but not without some good-natured teasing).





	Lesson Learned

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So this is my first fic ever! I'm so excited to post it. I made up these original characters. The idea just popped into my head one day. Let me know what you think!

Cyrus groaned.

“Dude, what happened to you?”

He jumped at the voice. His head swiveled around quickly, but he relaxed when he realized it was just one of his roommates.

“I thought I was the only one home,” Cyrus said in a dazed voice.

“I was just working in my room,” Elijah said. He was holding a bowl of hummus. He had been heading to the kitchen to grab more baby carrots when he had heard his roommate groaning. He stepped fully out of the hallway and into the living room where he could see Cyrus stretched out on the couch with one ice pack on his forehead and another on his ankle, which was propped up on a stack of pillows. He was dressed in a tank top and running shorts.

“This is what you get for exercising,” Elijah said flatly. Cyrus just groaned again in response.

Elijah plopped down into the ratty La-Z-Boy that they had unearthed in Kurt’s grandma’s basement and leaned back, looking comfortable. “So, tell me what happened,” Elijah said like a patient parent who knew that his kid had done something dumb. 

“No,” Cyrus said like a cranky child. “You’ll just laugh at me.”

“Well, I’m going to laugh at you whether you tell me or not.”

Cyrus considered this for a moment and then realized that Elijah was right. He was going to get laughed at no matter what. 

“I fell down,” Cyrus said in a pitiful voice. He was practically pouting, and his face was pale except for his florid cheeks. Elijah almost felt sorry for him...almost.

“How?” Elijah asked.

“Well, I was running on the Lakefront-”

“Wait, it’s 11pm. You were running on the Lakefront at 10pm?”

“I needed to clear my head.”

“Then take a stroll around the block. Seriously, people get jumped on the Path after dark. Or, before dark.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I know someone who got his jaw broken when a group of dudes mugged him on the Path.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, don’t go running on the Path alone after dark.”

“Well, I had my headlamp with me.”

“Oh, well excuse me. I didn’t realize you were packing a headlamp. I bet everyone could see you were trouble and gave you a wide berth.”

“The headlamp is so that I can see potholes, you jerk. Anyway, I was running, but I guess I had my headphones up a little too loud-”

“Wait, you were out on the Lakefront, alone, at night, wearing a headlamp, with your headphones blaring?”

“Okay, okay, maybe it wasn’t the best decision.”

“You might as well have put a sign on your back that said, “No street smarts. Please beat my ass and take my valuables.”

Instead of responding, Cyrus just shot Elijah a glare. It was not effective at getting Elijah to shut up. In fact, it had the opposite effect.

“God, the only thing that could’ve been worse is if you were wearing, like, an Apple Watch or something.”

Cyrus’s eyes widened a bit, and he sheepishly averted his gaze.

“Cyrus, you didn’t!”

“What!? It has a heart rate monitor and GPS tracking! It’s good for running!”

“It is a miracle that you are still alive. Everyone who moves to Chicago from a small town should be required to take a basic survival skills course before they’re set loose to roam the streets.”

“I’m going to take you to my grandparents’ farm, and I’m going to laugh so hard when you end up falling off of a horse.”

“Sorry, I have a personal policy of not going out of town with white people after seeing ‘Get Out’.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. 

“Roll your eyes if you want to. I’m not gonna end up body-switched with your grandpappy.”

“My grandpa’s like an old hippie. He protested Vietnam.” 

“Probably still racist.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes again. “Anyway, getting back to how I was injured-”

“Right, you were skipping down the Lakefront, obliviously waving your Apple Watch at all passersby-”

“Well, I looked down at my phone for just a second-”

“What!? Why do you need both an iPhone and an Apple Watch on your person!?”

“I was using my phone to listen to music!”

“You can do that on an Apple Watch!”

“It kills the battery, especially when you’re using AirPods!”

“You were running on the Lakefront at night! WITH AN APPLE WATCH! AIRPODS! AND AN IPHONE! WHO ARE YOU!?”

“WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT, I-OW!” In trying to offer an impassioned defense of his poor choices, Cyrus had begun to sit up and accidentally jostled his ankle. 

“OW, OW, OW, OW, FUCK, OW!” Cyrus gingerly eased his ankle back onto the pile of pillows while using one hand to keep the ice pack on his head and pressing the other hand to his hip.

The sound that Elijah was making could only be described as a cackle. He was rocking back and forth in the recliner, one hand pressed to his chest.

“You know what, I really do feel bad-”

“You should. I’m suffering, and you’re laughing at me.”

“I feel bad for the poor muggers, wandering the streets tonight, looking for an idiot to rob, who missed you.”

“You are so mean, and something bad is going to happen to you.”

“You are a mess. So, what happened?”

“Oh, well, my music was up too loud, and I didn’t hear this lady on her bike and her dog coming up behind me. They startled me, and I stepped in a pothole.”

“Isn’t that what your headlamp was supposed to protect you from?”

“I hate you.”

Shaking his head and chuckling, Elijah stood up from the recliner. “No, you love me, because I have ace bandages in my room, and I’m going to wrap your ankle for you.” Elijah examined Cyrus’s ankle, handling it with gentle fingers.

“Ah! Ah!” Cyrus hissed and grunted, wriggling away from Elijah’s touch. “Stop! Stop touching it!”

“Sorry, man. How long have you had the ice on?”

“About half an hour?”

“That’s long enough, any longer isn’t good for the nerves. You can ice it again in the morning, but for now we just have to wrap and then elevate while you sleep.”

“You’re pretty good at this.”

“Yep! That’s why I’m studying to be a nurse. You hit your head?”

“No, I just have a headache. I’m a little dehydrated.”

Elijah took both ice packs, now mushy and warm, swung into the kitchen, popped them into the freezer and poured a glass of water from the filter pitcher in the fridge. 

“Thanks,” Cyrus said as he accepted the glass from Elijah. He drank greedily.

“Anything else?”

“Um,” Cyrus gasped as he stopped drinking, “I fell pretty hard on my hip. There’s a nasty scratch and bruise there.” Cyrus pulled up the hem of his tank top, and Elijah took a look. 

“Dude, it’s full of gravel. You’re going to get an infection. You should’ve cleaned it out as soon as you got home.”

“I wanted to get my ankle up as soon as possible,” Cyrus’s voice held just a touch of whininess. 

It was Elijah’s turn to roll his eyes. Despite his teasing, he was actually a pretty patient caregiver. “You can just clean it with some alcohol and use some antibiotic ointment. I’ve got some gauze and medical tape you can put on. It should be fine.”

Cyrus made a face. “That stuff stings.” 

“Well, I guess you could just leave it and roll the dice on getting infected with an antibiotic-resistant strain of bacteria.”

Cyrus made another face. “I’ll take the alcohol.”

“Good call. So, what have we learned today?”

“Um, don’t go running alone on the Lakefront Path after dark?”

“And?”

“Um, turn down your music while you’re running?”

“And?”

“My pain exists for your amusement?”

“Exactly!”


End file.
